


Quarantining with a Drama Queen

by Bagginsbabe221b



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Humor, I wrote this in an hour, M/M, Make up sex, Victor is angry, Yuuri is angry, but it's just mentioned, quarantine fic, they're easily annoyed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagginsbabe221b/pseuds/Bagginsbabe221b
Summary: Victor and Yuuri are quarantining in St. Petersburg, not able to skate or leave the apartment for much more than the essentials. They think it'll be relaxing and nice, spending so much time together. This idea quickly goes out the window and they become increasing more annoyed with each other. Can they survive quarantine? I don't know, read and find out.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	Quarantining with a Drama Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Who is the drama queen, you ask? Both of them.  
> This is my first posted fic for Yuri on Ice. It was not my intended first fic, but that's how it turned out, so you're welcome.  
> I wrote this in an hour and it's not beta'd. Please forgive me for any mistakes.

Yuuri loved Victor. He really did. However, if he’s learned anything in the last three months, it’s that even the love of your life can become the most annoying person on the planet when, in fact, the only person you see in three months is said significant other. 

When they began quarantine, there were a lot of emotions running through both of them, but Yuuri in particular. They couldn’t skate and they didn’t know for how long. Yuuri was worried, like every other skater, that he wouldn’t have enough time to perfect everything he’d worked so hard on. Victor tried to console him, reassuring Yuuri that they had plenty of other things they could do in skating’s place. 

Wonderful, Yuuri had thought, conditioning. After the first week or so of being mentally miserable, Yuuri finally conceded and tried to make the best of things. At first, they’d found comfort in how much time they actually had available to simply relax together. With how hectic the last year or so had been, being able to spend an entire afternoon lounging on the couch and indulging somewhat in treats was a welcome circumstance. Victor enthusiastically allowed Yuuri snacks and cheat meals, stating that their mental health was on the line and he only wanted Yuuri to be happy. 

“Don’t worry, the conditioning will more than make up for the indulgence,” Victor had said in explanation. Yuuri hesitated at first. Between the mouthwatering appeal of cheat meals or less conditioning, he couldn’t resist the former. It wasn’t so bad in the end, not nearly as bad as when Victor first came to Hasetsu and conditioned him to death in order to drop his weight. So, for the first month of quarantine, things were blissfully wonderful after Yuuri accepted the reality of it a little. They cuddled daily, watched countless movies in Russian that Yuuri still couldn’t understand, and stocked up on all of Yuuri’s favorite snacks (and some of Victor’s too). Yuuri even got Victor to play video games. It didn’t last long, after the third time Yuuri killed Victor in the first minute of the game, his pouting (“Yuuuuuri, you killed me again! Yuuri, you’re so mean to your husband, how can you be so cruel to the love of your life?”) made Yuuri laugh enough to get himself killed. 

Even the sex was better. With less practice time and more energy, it felt as though their thirst for each other’s bodies were at an all time high. They christened many areas of the apartment before quarantine, but it seemed they’d missed a few key places such as: the kitchen, Yuuri placed on the countertop and shoved roughly against the cabinets, Victor sucking dark marks into the side of his neck (no one was going to see them anyway) while he was attempting to cook dinner. Or, the balcony, Victor begging for Yuuri to fuck him with the strong chance of being on display. Almost everyone was inside and bored, anyway, why not give them a show? Yuuri was, admittedly, clouded by the strong arousal he’d felt in the moment when agreeing to satiate Victor’s exhibitionist kink. After they’d calmed down, he was particularly mortified at what he’d just done. Victor, on the other hand, couldn’t stop smiling for the next two days, even after they gotten more than one warning from the complex. 

Yes, things were going splendidly. However, all good things come to and end. Things started unraveling two months into quarantine. It started one morning after a particularly difficult conditioning session. Yuuri was tired and irritable and Victor was ever the one to suck up the energy around him. When they arrived home, Victor walked into the bathroom to start the shower for Yuuri, leaving the keys on the counter. Yuuri huffed, rolled his eyes, and hung the keys on the key rack exactly one foot away from where he’d placed them. Why Victor couldn’t do this simple task annoyed Yuuri more than it should’ve. It was his mood talking, he knew it. When he made his way into the shower with Victor, the cold water hit Yuuri like a ton of bricks. He yelped and then turned on Victor. 

“What the hell? Why’s it so cold?” Victor’s smile faded and quickly grew into annoyance. 

“Well, I thought you might want something cool after your conditioning. Guess I was wrong.” Yuuri turned the water knob roughly the other way.

“Yes, you were,” he said, turning his back to Victor and washing himself. Victor did the same, both fuming but refusing to be the one to leave the scene. That night, Victor slept in the living room, smug with the fact that Makkachin was laying beside him, until she quietly yet swiftly left his side to go lay with Yuuri when he called for her. Victor fell asleep pouting, swearing he’d never forgive Yuuri or Makka. 

The next morning, Victor and Yuuri had make up sex against the bathroom wall, both muttering indistinguishable apologizes in their respective languages. 

Things only went downhill from there. One night, Victor accidentally brought up the softness of Yuuri’s hips while in the middle of fucking him passionately in bed. He’d meant it as an endearment, but had grossly underestimated Yuuri’s unease since quarantining had started. 

“How could you bring that up at a time like this?” Yuuri yelled, shutting the bathroom door in Victor’s face. Still very much aroused, he tried to fix the situation by calling into the closed space. 

“Yuuuuuri, I promise I meant it in the nicest way. I love your soft hips,” he tried. There was silence on the other side.

“It’s your fault. Now I’ll never land my quad flip.” Victor chuckled at Yuuri’s sentiment. 

“There’s a good chance you won’t have to worry about it anyway, if everything gets canceled.” Victor knew the moment the words flew out of his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. He heard a loud bang on the other side of the door. He sighed, grabbed a larger, fluffier blanket and made his way to the couch to sleep. 

A week later, Yuuri was feeling a little better. To cheer him up, Victor had worked really hard to find ways to change things up in the monotonous daily life of quarantine. They had found a small park outside of the city that they planned on picnicking at in the afternoon. While getting ready, Yuuri decided to dress a little nicer as a surprise to his husband, who always loved when Yuuri exuded causal sexiness. After his shower, he decided to slick back his hair to mimic his skating style. While he was searching for his hair gel, he realized he was out, so instead he grabbed one of Victor’s five options and proceeded to comb back his outgrown and a little messy quarantine hair. He spotted another product that was labeled ‘hair mist,’ sniffed it, and sprayed a little on his hair. When he was done, he made his way into the living room, finding Victor waiting for him on the couch. 

“Hmm, you look lovely,” Victor hummed, grabbing Yuuri by his pant loops and sniffing indulgently. He immediately went rigid. “Um, Yuuri?”

“Mmm?”

“Is that my Frederic Malle hair mist?” 

“Hmm, yes, you like it?” Yuuri almost purred so close to Victor. Victor, however, pushed Yuuri at arm’s length. 

“Do you know how expensive that hair mist it? I’m almost out, too! It’s my favorite and they’re not shipping worldwide right now because of covid.” Victor’s face was screwed up in an annoyed expression. Yuuri gawked, at first thinking he was joking but quickly realizing he wasn’t.

“Uh, how much is it?”

“350 dollars Yuuri!” Yuuri almost choked on his own spit. 

“Wh-what? Why’re you spending that much on…hair mist?” Yuuri’s face was turning slightly red. Victor simply rolled his eyes. 

“You know how precious my hair is. I can use only the best products.” Yuuri rolled his eyes in return. He was angry. Their picnic that he was looking forward to was ruined at this point, both of them too annoyed to want to leave.

“Maybe you should look at thickening products instead,” Yuuri whispered under his breath, not intending Victor to hear it. He was just so upset about their ruined plans. He watched as Victor’s face grew red and then his eye well up with tears. 

“Why would you say something like that?” he gasped, turning on his heel and shutting the door to the bedroom. Yuuri sighed, regretting his words. It was a low blow. As the day went on, he could hear Victor wailing from the bedroom, cursing Yuuri in three languages as he proceeded to buy every hair thickening product available to ship to St. Petersburg. It was Yuuri’s turn to sleep on the couch that night. 

Things hit a breaking point about two weeks later when Yuuri arrived home by himself after a nice, long jog around the city. Victor and Yuuri had made up yet again. This time, in the middle of particularly rough sex, Yuuri begged for Victor’s forgiveness, promising that he didn’t actually mean it. He loved Victor’s (slightly grown and currently messy) hair. Yuuri didn’t mind, though. He like begging Victor. In the end, he always gave Yuuri what he wanted. 

Currently, Victor was grabbing necessary groceries. He’d texted Yuuri that he was running out while he was on his run. Relaxed and wanting Victor to be home, Yuuri quickly got a shower and changed into comfy clothes. He was ready for a night in with his husband. Things were looking a little better. The requirement for quarantining was going down and the situation was increasingly becoming better. After the rollercoaster of the last three months, Yuuri was ready to escape this apartment. 

As he made his way into the kitchen, Yuuri stopped short, his mouth agape, head pounding with an oncoming headache. 

For the love of everything that is holy, he thought, looking at the mess of dishes and food spewed about in the sink. Half of the dishes were floating in disgusting water, the other half exuding a smell that made Yuuri want to gag. Along with food on the floor (he had no idea how that happened), there was water splashed about. What in the hell happened while Yuuri was gone? He’d asked Victor three times to do the dishes. Three days in a row, he made dinner, slaved over meals that he knew would make Victor happy and satiated and this is what he came home to? He could feel himself boiling inside, all the annoyance and anger building to a crescendo. He picked up a sauté pan that had bits of peppers and onion crusted onto it, examining it with disgust. As if the gods were screaming at him in that moment, he heard the door click open, Victor walking through the door. 

“Yuuuri! I’m home, darli…” the words dropped off as Victor stared at his husband, red and trembling with anger. His eyes grew wide in fear, knowing that he’d fucked up. “Okay, let’s calm down, sweetheart. I know you said—” 

“How many times did I ask you to do the dishes, Victor?” Victor valiantly counted in his head before answering.

“I believe it was three now, but—”

“Then, why, pray tell, after going on a difficult run that you pushed for, did I come home to this?” Yuuri spit the last word out. Victor, with a bag in one hand, put his palm to Yuuri in caution and began backing away. 

“Okay, okay. I understand you’re upset, but Yuuri, there was this really good looking pirozhki stand that closed at 4 and—” Victor couldn’t get the last part of his sentence out, because at that moment, Yuuri raised the dirty pan and began stepping towards him, intent on hitting him upside the head. However, as he put one foot forward to run at Victor, he slipped on a patch of water and fell on his back, the pan hitting him in the head instead. Groaning, Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out Victor who was now hovering over him, spilling apologizes out of his mouth like his life depended on it. Turning to the side and ignoring Victor, Yuuri grabbed his phone when a notification popped up. 

Yuuri sighed happily, forgetting the pain in his back and head, forgetting about his idiot of a husband currently babbling above him. He’d just been notified that their ice rink would be opening next week. Finally, Yuuri thought. He could escape this wreck of an apartment and breath some fresh air away from his husband who he currently resented, but unfortunately, would always love.

**Author's Note:**

> PS: Yuuri is okay. Although, he still has a bruise on his forehead when they go back to the ice rink. Yurio is suspicious, but doesn't ask.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
